Paul Gable: Mother in bondage

"Alana?" Glenda called out softly as she reached the large, dark entrance of the first stable building. "Alana?" Glenda called out again, smoothing down her hair as she pecked into the dark building.

"She ain't here," someone with a deep voice said from the darkness.

"Who's there?" Glenda asked, feeling her hair stand up on end.

"Sam Becker," the stableman said, walking slowly out of the darkness up to her.

Glenda straightened her back and struck an authoritarian pose in front of the leering man. There was something animalistic about Sam that terrified Glenda. Playing the cold rich bitch was the only way she felt she could fight him off. The brunette knew that he wanted her cunt. She could feel his eyes peeling off her clothes every time she walked in front of him. It was a dirty, humiliating feeling, and she'd have fired him months ago. But Sam was one of the best stable masters around. If she wanted good, prime jumpers and racers, she had to have Sam around supervising the other workers and taking over when they didn't know what to do.

"Mr. Becker," Glenda said coolly, looking around with an air of unconcern, "I'm looking for my daughter. If you see her, please send her back up to the house." Glenda turned around and was about ready to leave.

"I sure will, Ma'am. That is, if you and Brad are through fuckin' on the floor." Sam laughed loudly as he folded his big hands across his big belly.

"What? How dare you." Glenda cried out, clenching her fingers into two tight fists and wheeling around to face him. Her face was flushed with rage and shame as she stared at the laughing pig.

"Come on, Mrs. Williams. I know all about you and what you like," Sam said as he leered hotly at her. "You cunts are all alike. You play hard to get. You think that your pussy's made of gold or somethin'. But when you get a good, fat, hot dick stuffed in it, then it's 'Ohhhh, Noooo!' and all that shit until you pop your load."

Sam lowered his hands to his crotch and started nabbing his fat fingers up and down his fly. Glenda felt her skin crawling with horror and revulsion. Sam was getting out of control.

"You're drunk!" Glenda cried out, slowly backing away from him.

"Sure, I've had a little bit," Sam said, suddenly letting out a loud belch.

"And you're disgusting!" the brunette said in a low, trembling voice as she raised her hands protectively over her big tits. How did he know? How could, he have heard about what happened unless Alana had come down here and told him.

"You and your fuckin' daughter – two of a kind. Two big iceberg bitches until you get a fire in your pussy's." Sam stumbled toward Glenda.

"What have you done with my daughter?" the brunette asked, feeling horror creep over her as she thought that Alana might have come in contact with the stable master earlier.

"Nothin'! Nothin'!" Sam replied, stopping a few feet in front of her and reeling from to side with a stupid grin plastered on his pussy face. "She came down here an started talkin' to Destroyer. Couldn't help it, Mrs. Williams. I overheard, and I apologize," Sam slurred out, bowing mockingly in front of her. "That's where I heard about you and the kid."

Glenda looked around her. Where was Alana now? When the girl realized that Sam had overheard her, she probably bolted. But where?

"I didn't touch her. Too bad. She's got a nice little ass, Mrs. Williams. And I like nice, little asses," Sam said in a low, husky voice.

Glenda recognized that tone of voice, and realized that she'd better get out of there while she could.

"Thank you, Mr. Becker," Glenda said coolly as she started to leave.

"You ain't goin' anywhere 'til I'm through with you," Sam sneered, lurching forward and grabbing her by the right arm.

"Let me go, you pig!" Glenda screamed, slashing the air with the fingernails of her left hand as she tried to twist free of Sam's tight grip.

"Fighting bitch, aren't you? I like a fighter," Sam growled, his left hand moving quickly through the air.

Glenda felt something hard and heavy crash across her right cheek.

"Ohhh," the brunette cried out.

All the breath was knocked out of her with that blow. It was so hard that it knocked the woman free of Sam's tight grip and sent her stumbling and spinning to the hay-covered floor under them. Glenda caught herself with both hands as her knees scraped painfully across the sharp stubble and straw. Her brain buzzed as she heard Sam's loud, harsh laughter echo through the stable.

"Try anything like that with me again, and you'll get worse," Sam said, reaching down and wrapping his hands tightly around Glenda's narrow waist.

The brunette was still too dazed to fight. She felt him pick her up, then drag her like a dirtied old dishrag into the foul-smelling stable. This was Sam's home – the place where he was about to violate Glenda in the worst way possible.

"Leave me alone," the brunette pleaded in a soft whisper.

But Sam pretended not to hear her. He dragged her roughly across the floor, swearing and muttering to himself until they came up to a sawhorse. Glenda was gradually coming to her senses. All she needed was an opportunity to spring free and run out of the stable. The brunette had a feeling that Sam was preparing something grotesque for his own pleasure. Glenda wanted to be no part of his sick perversion.

"Gotta get some rope," the fat man mumbled as he dropped the brunette like an old sack of potatoes and started stumbling toward a large, half-opened cabinet.

Glenda saw her chance. The brunette sprung up quickly and sprinted toward the opened front door.

"Oh no, you don't!" Sam said, dropping the rope he'd pulled out of the cabinet and running after the woman.

The sounds of Sam's beating feet rang louder in her ears. If only he could reach the opening in time. If only.

"Owwwwww!" the brunette howled, feeling her halt being yanked back hard by the stable master. The sudden pressure and unbearable pain brought Glenda crashing down to her knees.

"Ohhh! Owwwww! Noooooo! Owwwww!" the woman cried out in agony as Sam kept pulling her hair violently in every direction, swearing at her for trying to escape.

"When I get through with you, bitch, you'll think this was the best part," Sam said, his face twisted into a mask of brutality and hate. Glenda cringed on the floor as she saw him draw back his hand spin. It crashed down on her face like a tumbling boulder, sending her reeling backward unconscious.

When Glenda awoke, she found herself sitting astraddle the sawhorse. Sam had stripped her naked, tethering her wrists and ankles with the half-inch rope to the bottom halves of the legs. The rough wooden crosspiece bit into her crotch painfully. Glenda raised her head from the crossbar and shook it, trying to focus her eyes and see what was happening around her.

"Like your new home?" she heard Sam ask somewhere behind her.

It was hard for Glenda to turn her head. But she managed to do it, twisting around in her bonds until she spotted Sam standing about three feet behind her. He was stripped to the waist and sweating heavily. In his right hand was one of the riding crops she'd used so often when racing the horses.

"What are you going to do to me?" Glenda asked in a trembling-voice.

Sam just laughed, sliding the leather crop slowly up and down in his right hand while he kept staring at her naked body. He laughed again, then walked up to her, pointing the riding crop at her ass.

"I told you I like ass meat," Sam said, chuckling as he pushed the cold leather crop against her right butt cheek.

Glenda felt her assflesh pucker up immediately as she felt that instrument slide teasingly up and down her butt. Sam was enjoying himself immensely. He enjoyed watching her face register disgust and fear as he moved that riding crop closer and closer toward her puckered bunghole.